Cumberland's British Theatre: With Remarks, Biographical and Critical, Tom 16George Daniel, John Cumberland J. Cumberland, 1827 |
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Strona 15
... don't mind letting you have the run of the key for an hour or two , if I go with you , and you can shew good cause . Thom . I can , I can . These French drawings which I sent you to purchase in Rathbone - place , that I might re- fresh ...
... don't mind letting you have the run of the key for an hour or two , if I go with you , and you can shew good cause . Thom . I can , I can . These French drawings which I sent you to purchase in Rathbone - place , that I might re- fresh ...
Strona 19
... Don't mention it . We merely called to in- quire if , among the persons who inhabit this street , one Mr. Thompson lodges here . Mor . Diable ! dat all ! and I leave my bed on purpose ? Heigho ! [ Aside . ] No , sare ; no Monsieur ...
... Don't mention it . We merely called to in- quire if , among the persons who inhabit this street , one Mr. Thompson lodges here . Mor . Diable ! dat all ! and I leave my bed on purpose ? Heigho ! [ Aside . ] No , sare ; no Monsieur ...
Strona 20
... don't catch cold . Mor . Bon soir , messieurs . am much glad they are going to go . Au revoir ! Diable ! dis dam puddel in de gutter , I put my foot on him . [ Exit into house . T. King . Mind your rush - light don't go out . Ha , ha ...
... don't catch cold . Mor . Bon soir , messieurs . am much glad they are going to go . Au revoir ! Diable ! dis dam puddel in de gutter , I put my foot on him . [ Exit into house . T. King . Mind your rush - light don't go out . Ha , ha ...
Strona 21
... Don't you hear the window open ? [ Knocks again . Rus . Yes , there's somebody getting up in the garret . Mor . [ Looking out of the garret window . ] Qui va là ? Vat is dere , s'il vous plait ? Vy you knock at de door of my maison , if ...
... Don't you hear the window open ? [ Knocks again . Rus . Yes , there's somebody getting up in the garret . Mor . [ Looking out of the garret window . ] Qui va là ? Vat is dere , s'il vous plait ? Vy you knock at de door of my maison , if ...
Strona 23
... don't know where Mr. Thompson lives , I dare say Miss Morbleu does , if you'll just have the good- ness to call her up ; or your servant will do the house- keeper or anybody . Mor . Parbleu ! dis worse than all ! You not content vit ...
... don't know where Mr. Thompson lives , I dare say Miss Morbleu does , if you'll just have the good- ness to call her up ; or your servant will do the house- keeper or anybody . Mor . Parbleu ! dis worse than all ! You not content vit ...
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Popularne fragmenty
Strona 7 - Ye friends to truth, ye statesmen who survey The rich man's joys increase, the poor's decay, 'Tis yours to judge, how wide the limits stand Between a splendid and a happy land.
Strona 8 - Biron they call him ; but a merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour's talk withal : His eye begets occasion for his wit ; For every object that the one doth catch The other turns to a mirth-moving jest...
Strona 10 - Tis education forms the common mind ; Just as the twig is bent the tree's inclined.
Strona 6 - Though poor the peasant's hut, his feasts though small, He sees his little lot the lot of all ; Sees no contiguous palace rear its head, To shame the meanness of his humble shed...
Strona 20 - Retain that dear perfection which he owes Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, And for thy. name, which is no part of thee, Take all myself.
Strona 7 - Is it not monstrous, that this player here, But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to his own conceit...
Strona 3 - Of all the griefs that harass the distress'd, Sure the most bitter is a scornful jest ; Fate never wounds more deep the gen'rous heart, Than when a blockhead's insult points the dart.
Strona 5 - Boastful and rough, your first son is a squire; The next a tradesman, meek, and much a liar; Tom struts a soldier, open, bold, and brave; Will sneaks a scrivener, an exceeding knave: Is he a Churchman?
Strona 5 - Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, Raze out the written troubles of the brain, And, with some sweet oblivious antidote, Cleanse the foul bosom of that perilous stuff, Which weighs upon the heart...
Strona 5 - The golden hair that Galla wears Is hers. Who would have thought it? She swears 'tis hers and true she swears, For I know where she bought it.